1/29/20
I wonder if there’ll ever be a day where I won’t know what to write. When I think about it I know the truth of the matter is that that will be okey dokey. I meant to write ok but put an “e” after the “k” and was too lazy to scratch it out and start again. Anyway, it’ll be okey-dokey because I figure any writing will be better than no writing. Too, I find that once I start writing I eventually fear I won’t have enough space to share my thoughts.
How am I supposed to share a day in roughly 250 words? Bit-by-bit, I suppose. Maybe some days are novel length, and others are flash fiction. By that logic some days are quite novel, and others present a flash of fiction. Maybe life is literature.
How are we supposed to determine what is a universal truth put into words? True, we are all made from the universe, but does that mean words are also made from the universe? That is rather circular logic.
If I remember anything from high school English it’s that circular logic is a logical fallacy, and you can day-dream about your classmates naked as much as you want. Lately writing has made me horny. Does that mean I’m horny for doing a diary entry? Oh no. More circular logic. I am writing –> I get horny –> I am horny for writing. Fuck me if that’s not logically right but shit I’m out of space so fuck you, too.
I love my mom, dad, sis, daughter, & wife
E.B.